


Bargain

by Saskiel



Series: FFxivWrite2019 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20577596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saskiel/pseuds/Saskiel
Summary: AU inspired by the prohibition era in the USA.





	Bargain

**Author's Note:**

> AU inspired by the prohibition era in the USA.

Tataru was rushing down the stairs to the underground bar, hidden from sight. She had vital information that the gang needed to know right away before they would put their plan to the motion. When she finally opened the door, her breathing was erratic but she made it to the table where the Scions were gathered. All eyes shifted to her as she wheezed for air, putting one finger up in an indication to give her a moment.

“What is it, sugar?” Y’Shtola asked her, handing her half-empty beer.

Tataru refused the glass, taking a few deep breaths. “The Ascians know where we will be moving the shipment tonight, I’ve overheard them talking about finally finishing us!”

“That’s bloody brilliant,” Thancred’s fist hit the table, shaking the contents of the multiple drinks. “If we don’t move the moonshine and the guns, the boss will be furious. And when she’s furious, it will be our end anyway!”

The voices started raising one over another as everyone tried to think of a solution, or even just lamented at their dire situation. They were just in mids of debating who would be the messenger to Hydaelyn, when the door opened again, bringing in an unlikely visitor. Three sets of barrels pointed at him immediately, Emet-Selch simply raised his hands, a smirk on his face.

“Look what the cat dragged in, here for your execution, ey?” Papylamo’s eyes narrowed to slits as he held his gun steadily.

The second in command for the Ascians only laughed, stopping a good few feet from the table, hands still in the air. “The contrary, I believe. I am here to save your precious plan which is about to be ruined,” he left the sentence open, brushing an imaginary piece of dust from his shoulder.

“Keep talking and maybe we won’t put a bullet through your brain.”

“Well, I would be willing to give my men a different assignment for tonight - a false lead, if you will. So that you can do whatever you wanted in the docks, under the veil of the night,” he sighed, before lightly shaking his hands. “May I lower these now or are you still fully set on shooting me on the spot?”

All the weapons were slowly lowered, Thancred being the last to do so. While others holstered their guns, he left it plain on the table, sending a glare to the other man after seeing his eye-roll.

In hushed tones, the Scions turned to each other.

“This could really save our necks, folks.”

“I do _not_ want any pity offers from that rat-man!”

“Thancred, think with your head for once instead of your arse. Do you want the boss to know that we failed to deliver, losing her money _a third time_ in a row now?”

While they bickered, two pairs of eyes sought each other. Emet-Selch was intently watching the only woman at the table who stayed silent throughout the whole rapid-fire exchange. Her face was impenetrable as always, making him snort softly to himself.

“Alright, you twat, what do you want in return?”

“Mister Waters, I am not even worthy of such an honor,” the Ascian bowed mockingly to the short-tempered man. Y’shtola and Papylamo reached for Thancred’s arms before he had the time to do anything stupid. Clearly unperturbed, Emet-Selch continued. “I ask that the Hero of Scions accompany me for dinner. I shall return her to you unharmed tomorrow after you’ve run your little errand,” he points to the quiet woman.

Suddenly, all the friction at the table ceased. They were silent for a while before the first of the uncertain voices started agreeing with giving her up, just for the night. Their reasons along the lines of “well, it would really help us” and “we don’t really have a chance” or even “I don’t feel good about this, but…”.

Finally, the woman in questions exhaled loudly and stood up.

“Fine. Do I have your word that I will be free to leave whenever I want to, as long as it is after midnight? The agreement was for tonight only, correct?”

“But of course, my dear. If that is what you wish,” the devilish grin on his face made Tataru take a step back, suddenly afraid about sending one of theirs to his lair.

“Excellent. Let me settle the plans and I will meet you outside in a few minutes.”

***

The first birds already started their chirping of the upcoming morning, when the name of the second in command of Zordiarc tumbled down the lips of the Hero of Hydaelyn. She gripped his forearm as he brought her over the edge for the numerous time this night, the sheets crumpled around them as they held onto each other.

“What a bargain… If only they knew you were the canary who sang a song to my troops,” he grinned before kissing her passionately. “And all that just to be with me,” he traced a finger down her face in a loving gesture.

She flipped them with ease, enjoying the way he was still filing her wholly, before she started raising up and down, making him swear profoundly.

“I wouldn’t have to, darling, if you only left his side,” she said, enjoying her slow, sensual rhythm.

“That is never gonna happen,” he grunted out, grabbing at her hips before she pried them off, refusing to go any faster.

“I know,” her words were dark but not angry. She would punish him in her own way that morning.


End file.
